


Desire

by VenusBrutalis



Series: Metamorphosis [1]
Category: Priest (Swedish Band)
Genre: BDSM, Bloodplay, Bondage, Consensual, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2017-04-22
Packaged: 2018-10-22 16:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10700403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VenusBrutalis/pseuds/VenusBrutalis
Summary: What does the Puppet Master desire? In time, it will be revealed.





	Desire

«You, the one who pulls the strings, what do _you_ desire?» The air was heavy and filled with unspoken requests, in this damp underground scene. Around us people danced in unison, creating a pulsating mass of flesh; suffocating, encapsulating. I had showed the person in the spiked mask, whom also appeared to impersonate a priest, the black card. The black card indicated my interest, and consent, and he gladly accepted it. Well, it was hard to tell what his exact emotions were, to be honest, but now we found ourselves in the beginning of what would hopefully be a perverted encounter. The heavy beats of the music emulated those of a heart, a steady and relentless beat that kept us all alive. And what a place to be alive, surrounded by leather and latex, sweat and saliva. My object of desire leaned in, pulling me closer, the spikes gracing my cheek as he whispered his exact desires to me. What a place to be alive, indeed.

He lead me towards a door, gave it a knock, and was asked for a password. The loud music made it hard to hear, but I could have sworn it was « _Gollum_ ». Once on the other side, we found ourselves in what resembled a lobby, where my suitor asked for the keys to room 412. There was nothing romantic nor inviting about this industrial complex, but tonight was about pure, unfiltered lust. He held the door open for me, but I had only taken a few steps into the room, when I felt him behind me, pulling my hair aside, slowly kissing the nape of my neck. «Submit yourself to me, fully…» his voice spoke, softly. With a firm grip on my waist he got even closer to me, his kisses now laden with small, sharp bites. «Submit, and I will make you weep. Submit, and you will not be able to distinguish pain from pleasure; everything will be intertwined, you’ll be mine, and I’ll be yours. Submit, and we can become one. Submit, and become truly free…» He wrapped my hair around his fist and forced my head back, his other hand gently caressing my cheek. «Allow me to become your master, allow me to experience you exposed and vulnerable, and know that just one word from your wanting lips is enough to release your from all of this, if you wish…» I couldn’t hide my sly smile, as he awaited my reply. I pretended to hesitate, coyly, but my sly smile let out the words « _So be it_ »

The deviant gentleman stepped away from me, inspecting my attire. «Remove your dress, please», he commanded. Once I had completed my task, he beckoned me over, with a gesture of his finger. He cupped my face in his hands, gave me a light kiss on the lips, and shoved me down on the floor. With impressive precision, he had me on my back, arms pinned to the side. His strong legs kept my arms in place as he straddled me, pressing two fingers inside my mouth. I caressed them with my tongue, and soon realised these weren’t the only pair of lips he intended to finger. He rubbed his hand vigorously over my _mons veneris_ , making me squirm underneath him. I felt him pull the underwear aside, and moaned as he slipped two fingers between my wet lips, teasing the sensitive opening. The fingering continued, his two slender digits now penetrating me, gliding slowly in and out of me. I received them willingly. I closed my eyes in and tilted my head back, giving in to sin. His fingers left my mouth, and I heard the sound of a zipper. My mouth didn’t stay vacant for long, as he led his throbbing member towards my warm lips. I latched on to it, caressing the tip as my tongue swirled around the top of the shaft. The fingering became more and more unhinged as he pressed his cock deeper into my mouth, forcing me to concentrate on breathing properly. I opened my eyes and met his gaze. I shivered as I noticed something was off with one of his eyes, but in this fevered state, my sight was almost blurred. The red glow, in this dark room. I must have imagined it.

Abruptly he pulled himself out of my mouth, and situated himself further down on me, after freeing my hands. He held them in his, as if he was unsure of what to do. It didn’t last long, however, as he reached for something near us; a rope. My hands were bound together tightly by the wrists, and again my anonymous lover reached for something. I felt my heart skip a beat as he pulled on the spiked gloves, he pulled  them on slowly, while looking at me. A grin appeared on his masked face, or at least the teeth were now exposed in what I could only assume was a smile. The red glow grew stronger. He climbed off me, and got between my legs, prying them open. My underwear was ripped off by a force undoubtedly moved by primal urges, and with his spiked gloved hands placed under my buttocks, he lifted my hips against his face. The spikes sank into the soft flesh without rupturing the skin. For now, at least. I shivered as he placed his tongue over my lips, just pressing it in its entirety against them. He squeezed my buttocks, forcing me to move closer to his mouth, and he began to move his tongue in an exaggerated manner, delivering lashes of licks again and again. I started to grind against his tongue, and locking his head between my legs. The spikes on his mask were noticeable, but at this moment all I cared about was my own pleasure. His lips puckered around my clit, and I kept grinding. I barely noticed the small drops of crimson that appeared on my inner thighs. I was close now, but he stopped. He spread my legs again, and noticed the puncture wounds. I felt my heart pound at an elevated rate, my entire body ready to receive the sweet release of a climax, but I was denied.

I watched him lick the blood away, kissing every small dent. He got up on his knees, and I noticed the dark hair surrounding his erect member. For the first time I felt curious; I wanted see more of his flesh, more of him. But not tonight, tonight he was my masked fucker, my secretive master. I saw him place a hand around his cock, as he lead it towards my soaked slit. We both moaned as it penetrated me, excruciatingly slowly. My legs were placed over his shoulders as he went deeper inside of me, and he held them in place with one hand, as the other reached for my chest. He pulled the fabric of the bra aside, exposing my nipple to his gloved fingers. The spikes threatened to leave more marks on me, much to his pleasure, as he now bent down on top of me, his hands pressing all over me. My hands were still tied, and I felt suffocated beneath his frame, but not once did I want him to stop. Instead I used this to my advantage, and found myself able to stimulate my clit against his coarse pubic hair. Two hands were now around my neck, spiked thumbs against my throat. His fucking was now almost completely unhinged, his only focus was to achieve the purest of pleasure. The red glow was so apparent now, so bright. I tensed up, as an almost violent urge grew inside of me, driving me towards an orgasm. I saw the sweat drip out of his mask, and a salty drop landed on my lips. I tasted it, even though swallowing was almost impossible in his chokehold. I heard his voice now, faint at first, chanting. « _Come, come, come, come…_ » My willpower was no more, and I came, feeling the intense rush flow through my body.

Maybe it was sweat running down my chest, or rather, maybe it was just sweat, but the spikes must have done their job. He let go of my throat, admiring his craft. His hands buried themselves in my hair as he fucked me, clinging to me like a second skin. A guttural groan emerged from deep within him as he came, a sound so eerie I must have imagined it. I was still bound beneath him, but he wasn’t finished yet. He began to clean my throat, tasting the drops of maroon, mixed with sweat. I was untied, but he insisted that I remained in his embrace, while his hands began to mark as much of me as they could. I could only watch as he pressed the spikes against my skin, not necessarily making me bleed, but enough to leave a trace. There was a tenderness in all of this, to ensure I felt taken care of. There was no malice in any of his actions, just a ritual of trust between two souls on the same path. What we had shared was ours, and ours alone. But as I was about to leave, a sudden sense of something unknown came upon me, and I turned around. I saw the red glow coming from his eye so clearly now, and I knew there was no way to quell his desire.

_This was just the beginning._

**Author's Note:**

> Creative decision: Puppet Master's appearance is based on Mercury's spiked look, only a bit more ...advanced, perhaps.


End file.
